


our roots may grow

by helahler



Series: Domestic WinterPanther [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6428794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helahler/pseuds/helahler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky lifts his head, steps back a little, taking in the view: the King of Wakanda sitting on his couch in soft sleep pants, feet propped up on the coffee table, scrolling through Netflix. </p><p>The sight sends a warm bubble of happiness right through Bucky, as well as the same old familiar refrain: <i>how did a guy like me manage to land a guy like that.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	our roots may grow

"You're hurt," is the first thing T'Challa says when Bucky walks through the door.

"What, no ‘Hi, honey, how was your day?’ It was great, honey, thanks for askin’,” Bucky grumbles, stepping through into the apartment and lowering his heavy bag to the floor. There’s a smear of blood on his cheek, and one of his eyes is darkened by bruising. He’s limping slightly. 

“Hi, honey, how was your day?” T’Challa says, teasing. 

Bucky crosses the apartment floor to lean over the back of the couch, his mismatched hands cupping T’Challa’s face as he ducks down and presses a gentle upside-down kiss to T’Challa’s lips. 

“It was great, honey,” he says, pausing to brush their mouths together, “thanks for askin’.” 

He lifts his head, steps back a little, taking in the view: the King of Wakanda sitting on his couch in soft sleep pants, feet propped up on the coffee table, scrolling through Netflix. The sight sends a warm bubble of happiness right through Bucky, as well as the same old familiar refrain: _how did a guy like me manage to land a guy like that._

It takes a lot of willpower to force himself to step away from the couch, when all he wants to do right now is faceplant in the cushions beside his boyfriend and maybe get some cuddles in too, although at this point he’s so bone-deep exhausted he’s pretty sure that the next surface he lands on will be his home for the next eight hours, so he’s gotta pick wisely, and besides, he still needs to wash away the grime that comes with going on a weeklong mission where showers are pretty low down on the list of priorities. 

“You stayed up late,” he says, heading for the bathroom and peeling off his gear as he goes. 

“I thought I might await your arrival,” T’Challa says, sounding a lot closer than the couch. 

Bucky turns, pausing in the middle of undoing his belt and shucking his pants. T’Challa’s making his way over, clearly heading for the bathroom too. He notices that Bucky’s stopped undressing and makes an impatient gesture with his hand: _don’t stop on my account._

If this were any other night Bucky would make a tease of this, would take his time about it, but he’s _tired,_ too tired even for this, so instead he just slides his pants down, stepping out of his boots and peeling off his socks in what might be the most unseductive striptease of all time.

Apparently that’s not much of an issue; by the time they actually make it to the bathroom they’re both naked, stumbling a little as they pause to kiss, until T’Challa wrinkles his nose and pulls back a little. 

Bucky’s too tired to be offended. “I know, I know,” he says. “Why d’you think I was headin’ to the shower in the first place?”

T’Challa quirks his brow at that, because, okay, usually when Bucky heads for a post-mission shower it’s for some pretty spectacular shower sex. 

“Point taken,” Bucky concedes. “Gonna have to give that a pass today, though, pal,” he says, stepping into the shower and feeling every inch his ninety seven years as his muscles twinge and ache at even that slight movement. The sudden rush of hot water pouring down over his shoulders feels heavenly. T’Challa clambers in behind him, getting an arm around his chest and pulling him in close, taking his weight.

A hand slides idly over his chest, brushing over his nipples, but for once there’s nothing sexual about it; it feels nice, feels _good_ , to be like this, to be able to touch like this after too many days without it. Bucky leans into the touch, letting the water soak through his hair, down over his face, washing the grime and the blood away in thin pink streaks. 

He manages to get his hair washed eventually, with some welcome assistance from T’Challa, since at this point his arms are aching so badly even lifting them above his head feels like a herculean task. By the time they’re done his legs are starting to shake a little with the effort of standing upright, which means it’s definitely time to lie down, preferably on a bed but at this point he’s not picky. Carefully, T’Challa dries him off and guides him to the bedroom, easing him into some sleep pants before sitting him down on the bed and leaning over him to towel his hair dry, during which Bucky may or may not fall asleep for a few minutes, waking up only when T’Challa steps back and runs a hand through his hair to push it back from his face. 

“Hi, honey,” T’Challa says softly, only half-joking this time. “Are you feeling better now?”

Bucky lies back on the bed, pulling T’Challa with him and getting the covers over them both; god, it feels so _good._ He turns his head, gently pressing their mouths together, already feeling his eyes begin to close as he slides down into sleep. 

“Yeah, honey,” he smiles, feeling T’Challa get an arm around his waist and spoon up behind him, fitting their bodies together like puzzle pieces: made for each other. “S’good to be home.” 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I keep saying that I won't write any more of these two until Civil War comes out but I keep getting sudden bursts of inspiration, so, uh: have some fluff. Also, look, I wrote some T'Challa/Bucky that wasn't porn! Which, speaking of, I probably won't be writing much more of any time soon, but we'll see. 
> 
> Words can't describe how much I appreciate feedback and comments (my last fic kind of bombed, which shook my confidence a little, but then I figured the best way to get past it was by writing more, so.)
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://helahler.tumblr.com) if you want to yell with me about SamBucky and T'Challa/Bucky, and this fic is rebloggable from [here](http://helahler.tumblr.com)


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